“Gods,” she utters. “Delaney probablytoldOlivia to get the book… Viola… Sylas, Viola is at the House of Death.”
My stomach roils with agony, as if I haven’t replayed the first night I met Viola a thousand times over in my head. She could be dead right now, and I wouldn’t know. I have no way of getting to her. The moment the thought crosses my mind, I let out a curse.
Beau’s head whips to me, and he approaches, laying a hand on my shoulder. “Listen, Sy. IhateLorne, but I guarantee you he won’t leave her alone. And the House of Death is stacked with Firstline officers, because they’re already suspecting a Mortemagi.”
That Beau’s mind went straight to where mine went earlier eases me a little. I have to believe that Viola is safe, and once Lyria receives her clearance pass, she’ll be with her. As if my sister hears my thoughts, she says, “The second I receive my pass, I’ll run… Now, tell us everything.”
After a moment, I nod in gratitude and walk over to the coffee table by the fireplace. I kneel, pulling the photograph out of my pocket. If we have to wait, I might as well walk them through our findings. Beau and Lyria join me, kneeling opposite me. My brother opens the drawer under the table and retrieves two pens and blank pages. He starts scribbling down the dead family lines: Cardot, Carver, Quince, Rowan.
“Corvi, because we know they are after Viola’s relic. Sierra, because Aunt Yas was gone before Willow died, and Mom died before Willow,” I tell him.
Beau breathes out a curse. “All this time, we’re worrying about Faro’s Cuff being missing, and it was right here, under our noses, at Gorhail. I wish I could say we were blind, but I would never have thought—”
The Poisoned Stairwell door jerks open, startling the three of us. I scramble to my feet, thinking it’s Viola and she’s found a way to me instead. But Paltro walks in, a small pouch in his hands.
“Uncle,” Lyria exclaims. He returns her greeting with less enthusiasm than usual. Something is wrong, I see it in the slight twitch of his lips, the flare of his nostrils, the purse of his lips. He lingers on every one of us, before settling on me.
“Is Sierra—” I ask, realizing he can get in and out of the Poisoned Stairwell. Thank Haal, I have a way to Viola. I move, but Paltro’s words stop me.
“Rest assured, Miss Ducas had her magic sealed and left her relic behind. She’s now in Riverview. I was patrolling the stairwell and thought to drop some tea off.” His eyes move to my hands. “You have to trust that we’re doing our job, Sylas.”
“Sierra sealed her magic?” I ask.
“It was the only way to kill her line without killing her—you know that.”
I know that, just like I know that magic, once sealed, never comes back. She’ll live out her days as a nonmagi, never fulfilling her dream of being a reader at DOTS, all because of Delaney and her bloodlust. All because she was forced to trade her magic for her life.
I close the distance to where Paltro stands. I feel sorry for my friend, but she’ll live. I can’t say the same for Viola if I don’t get to her in time. Now that I have a way into the Poisoned Stairwell, Ineedto go to her.
“Here you go.” Paltro hands me the pouch and blocks the door. “It should help with all the stress.”
I snatch the pouch out of his hands. “What is this?”
“Memories Zoya was willing to offer.” He inhales. “About your parents.”
Paltro doesn’t care about mystressat all. My parents are already dead; their memories will remain whether I look at them now or in ten years.
Haal, Viola is dying, and Paltro wants to force memories down my throat through tea. I huff out a frustrated breath, but he continues, “Zoya is one of our most precious assets at Gorhail. She harbors the memories of every student who has ever crossed the library, unless they remember to block them out before they step in.”
Sothisis why she insists on greeting every one of us. It isn’t endearing at all. It’s a violation of our minds. Haal, everything is wrong with this institute.
“Not now, Uncle.” I return the pouch to Paltro. No memory that Zoya has for me will ease the sheer panic that I may never see Viola again. The longer he keeps me here, the higher the likelihood that Delaney’s got her claws on her.
“Viola…” Lyria steps forward, Beau right behind her. “Uncle, Viola is at the House of Death, and Delaney is there, too… Please let Sylas through.”
Paltro regards me with disappointment. Maybe if he knew who Viola was, he would be more inclined to help her. Everything unsaid piles at my throat, and I look at my uncle with a silent plea.
“It’s her,” I confess. “She’s the Deathbringer’s daughter.”
“Ah,” he says, without a hint of surprise. Did he already know? “A word of advice, if I may?” Paltro blows out a breath. Whether I want to hear it or not, Paltro has the key to the Poisoned Stairwell, and he’ll hold me hostage until he’s said what he wants.
“Aspieri-Mortemagi crossmages are volatile. They rarely survive to tell their story. I would advise Viola to seal her Aspieri magic and return Scar to DOTS,” he says calmly.
Now my impatience bleeds into anger. All this talk about loyalty, but when it comes to Viola, she must seal away her magic.
“It won’t change that she’s one of us.” I hold his disapproving stare. Viola, a half Aspieri, daughter of the Deathbringer, might die, and he’s more concerned with getting Scar back. “Bound by loyalty, Uncle.”
“Mortemagi know little of loyalty, Sylas.”